


The Golden Girl and The Wayward Son

by A_Song_of_Quill_and_Feather



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:17:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20226739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Song_of_Quill_and_Feather/pseuds/A_Song_of_Quill_and_Feather
Summary: Sansa made the best of her position as the lone Slytherin in a family known for Gryffindors. She excelled and rose and became the best that she can be, even if that was as a Slytherin.Theon struggled with his position as the lone Gryffindor in a family known for Slytherins. He struggled between his new house with the friends he made in it, and the family he was raised in that shunned him for a choice made by a hat.Inspired by this post on tumblr: https://anotherwaywarddreamer.tumblr.com/post/186957338620/all-theon-ever-wanted-was-to-make-his-pureblood





	1. Part 1

The Slytherin table seemed so far away as Sansa made her way towards it. Walking past Gryffindor table, the table that held Jon and Robb and should’ve held her. Her brother looked confused, perhaps a bit angry. But Jon smiled assuredly to her, as though trying to let her know it didn’t matter. His smile telling her “so what? Your Slytherin, you’re still family. Still a Stark.”

But it wasn’t ‘so what’. It was very much ‘what the hell’. There was one truth about the Stark family that had been present for as long as she recalled. House Stark bred Gryffindor’s, not once that she can remember reading had there been anything but Gryffindor. Even her mother had been Gryffindor, house Tully also was known for Gryffindors, less so than Stark but still.

Sansa still reels from her nerves even as dinner finishes and the Slytherin prefect leads them through the winding halls and switching stairs of Hogwarts. It wasn’t supposed to go this way; she thinks as the prefect shows them to the common room. She was _supposed_ to be Gryffindor, she was _supposed _to meet a nice Gryffindor boy and wear gold and red and cheer on Robb as he played quidditch.

As she settles onto her bed she stares down at the silver and green ties she’d been given. Around her is more green and silver and snakes. The grey stone of the dungeons more foreboding over her. All of it cold, judging, and waiting to see what she will do next.

_Slytherin_. She thinks. The hat had taken a while to get to it, it had mentioned Gryffindor, but only in so far as it was her family house. It had said she held some traits, but not enough to warrant putting her there. It had said she would thrive in Slytherin. It said she would find herself here.

But she didn’t want to find herself here. She wanted to be sitting in the cozy common room of red and gold and lions with her brothers. She wanted to be brave, and honorable and good.

She sighs, turning to pull the green curtains around her bed before wiping away a tear that had fallen on her cheek. She looks back at the tie. _Slytherin_. She thinks again holding up the tie before her. _Fine. I’ll make it work…_

~

“Well maybe the hat made a mistake.” Robb complained, he sat upon the couch in Gryffindors common room with Jon and Theon. The fire casting a golden glow upon the three. “I mean; it knows that Starks are Gryffindors. Maybe it had a lapse in judgement, or it was under some curse by a dick Slytherin.”

Theon didn’t say anything at first. He just listened as Robb complained and Jon comforted his cousin’s worries. He’d been as surprised as the two Starks when Robbs little sister had been proclaimed Slytherin. But he’d also been brought to a year back, when he’d sat in her spot and the hat had proclaimed Gryffindor.

“You said that the hat never makes mistakes,” he finally says, it’s quiet and careful but loud enough for Robb to look at him. “Last year, after I got the howler from my father about it. You’d torn in up before it had finished, and told me it doesn’t make mistakes.” He recalled it clearly, Robb’s anger on his face when the howler had started, and the way he’d torn it from the air and kept ripping at it until the voice of Theon’s father was gone.

“Yeah…” Robb starts, but Theon can see the ‘but’ on his lips so he stops him.

“I think your sister will probably need to hear that tomorrow.” He says plainly. “She looked as shocked as anyone, not to mention on the verge of tears.” _And Slytherin isn’t as forgiving as Gryffindor, they’ll eat her alive if she doesn’t toughen up quick. _

“Theon's right,” Jon says, probably for the first time ever. “Sansa needs support, not us proclaiming it’s wrong.”

Robb doesn’t say anymore. He just nods and settles back on the couch, staring at the fire as thoughts work their way through his head. It’s not until several moments of the three of them sitting in silence that he asks, “do you think she’ll be okay Theon?”

He was the only one of them with considerable knowledge of Slytherin, what with his whole family being known for being Slytherins. He thought of Sansa for a moment, he’d met her over the summer when he’d run away from home to the Stark house. She’d seemed silly to him, far too sweet and sensitive over the littlest things. Everywhere he’d spotted her she was reading a book with princesses or love or happiness practically in the title. But he’d also seen her proclaim her plans for Hogwarts, silly plans only an eleven-year-old would have but far more ambitious than he’d seen Robb proclaim. She’d proclaimed she’d be head girl someday, prefect, top of the class and as popular as she pleased. He’d seen her snap with a particular form of wit to her brothers or sister that had reminded him of his mother, of his sister.

“Yeah,” Theon says after a long pause, “She’ll kick Slytherin houses ass if she wants to.”

~

Sansa Stark did, indeed, kick Slytherins ass. It took only a week of clear feeling sorry for herself before Theon started to see her talking freely and laughing easily with the Slytherins of her year and above. She took to the colors of the house well and integrated further into the house, cheering them on in quidditch, and earning house points in all of her classes by being the best that she could, earning more than any in her year.

By the end of her first year she had established herself well as Slytherins new rising golden girl.

The years passed effortlessly for Sansa it seemed after that first week. Even as her siblings joined Hogwarts and house Gryffindor making her stand out more as the lone Stark of Slytherin, she didn’t let it affect her. Even if it did she didn’t show it to the world. Alongside the Beauxbatons-transfer Margaery Tyrell, she was one of the most popular girls of Slytherin. She became the epitome of a Slytherin, excelling at everything, showing her wit and cunning as she pleased, and all while still holding steadfast to the parts of her that were softer than most of the house tended towards.

She would cheer on her house passionately at quidditch, but that didn’t keep her from cheering on Robb as well. Or Arya when she joined eventually. It earned her some hexes, all deflected by her or Margaery with ease.

Theon found it fascinating how she’d easily assimilated to her house. Now one could look at her and not be able to imagine how she’d fit into Gryffindor like the rest of the Starks. She was, and is, entirely a Slytherin. Even over the summers Theon could see it. With Theon now skipping his family home all together for the Stark estate of Winterfell. He could see how she is unabashedly proud of her house, sewing little Slytherin symbols to her pillows and hanging her house flag on the door to her room despite the old family home holding memorabilia for its legacy of Gryffindor all about it. Theon was also surprised by how her family accepted it. Her father and mother kind about it that first Christmas back, a jumper was knitted by Old Nan who lives on the Stark property in solid Slytherin colors that she wears whenever the weather falls cold.

In some ways Theon felt jealousy stinging him. She’d received approval and kindness from her family despite being of a different house, all he’d gotten was a sharply cruel howler and a smack his first summer back. A smack that had sent him with his things to Robb and the Starks. A smack that kept him from returning, even as he missed his mother and sister.

He was jealous, and didn’t understand how she had found her place so easily in the house that didn’t fit her family. Five years had passed since his sorting and he still struggled, struggled to feel confident of his place as a Gryffindor, struggled to understand his place as a Greyjoy.

Then one day he was wandering the halls, reeling from news of his fathers’ arrest and his brothers’ deaths. Not wanting to return to the common room just to feel the glares of those who would look at him and see only House Greyjoy; the muggle-killers, pure-blood elitists and dark wizards. He came across her slid down a wall with her head against her knees and a small sobbing sound coming from her.

“Sansa?” He called after a moment of considering otherwise. “Sansa are you okay?” 

She looks up, quickly wiping under her eyes before nodding harshly. “I’m fine Theon.” She starts to stand but stops short, slumping back down and shaking her head just as harshly. “I don’t know.” She admits, a cry stopped in her throat as she forces it away. 

“Did something happen?” He asks moving closer to her.

“No… yes. Kind of.” She looks over at him, eyes dark and tear-filled. “Joffrey… he got pissed at me.” Theon nodded, he knew Joffrey well enough. A year below him and Robb, the boy was useless with magic and yet still somehow managed to get on the quidditch team (perhaps because his grandfather funded the team but no one said that outright unless they wanted one of his goons to hit them). Theon also recalled that Sansa had started dating the prick a few months ago. “We were at Hogsmeade with a bunch of others, someone made the joke about him being a squib that only got into Hogwarts because of his parents, said its why the hat put him in Gryffindor because his parents paid for it. I laughed, so did some others. It wasn’t taken seriously, but he… he got angry. He snapped at me. Said that least he was in his family’s house, and not a traitorous disgrace that ruined a family legacy.” She speaks quickly, harshly and at the end her hand moves up to wipe away another nearly fallen tear. Theon moves and slides down the wall to sit beside her.

“Well it’s still in the air whether Joffrey’s a secret squib as well as a dick,” he starts, nudging her shoulder slightly with his own, “but you know that you’re not any kind of disgrace, or traitor.”

She tensed and stared away from him down the hall. “But what if I am. I mean I did kind of ruin a record of Starks being only Gryffindors. And I know mum and dad say it’s okay, that they don’t care what house I am in. But I still see little things that make me think it does matter, even if it’s just a little. Like whenever we’re all around a table and Arya or Robb say something that happened with Gryffindor over the year and they all laugh or go on talking about it leaving me left out. And I can see the worry on my mums face when I buy robes with Slytherin coloring, or after I redecorated my room last summer, the slight disappointment when dad saw it.”

“That’s not…” Theon starts but she shakes her head at him before meeting his eyes.

“It is… and it’s fine. I guess, I mean if it’s true it’s true. Nothing to be done but ignore it.” She looks away again and pulls at some loose threads on her jeans. “But still, part of me wishes that I could just _be_ Gryffindor.”

“I would say that you wouldn’t do well if you were,” he tells her, “but that would be a lie.”

She looks back at him with narrowed eyes, “wow, Theon that helps. Tell me more about how my life would be better in Gryffindor.”

“Oh I don’t know if it would be better,” he says, looking back at her “just that you would do well. But that’s because you’re probably the most adaptable girls I know. I mean the way you’ve practically dominated Slytherin.” He smirks, “not everyone in your position could thrive as well. So yeah, if you were Gryffindor you’d still do well, be popular, earn more house points than most, all that. But you’d be in the wrong house.” She starts to look away but he bumps her shoulder to keep her attention, “you’d be doing all that stuff because you felt you needed to, not because it came naturally or it’s what you were meant to be doing. Plus, adaptability is quite Slytherin.”

“Is it?”

“The way you do it is.” He grinned a second before letting out a sigh and letting it fall away. “And, I know what it feels like. Being in a house that doesn’t line up with your family.” She nods after a moment with realization of his own situation with his sorting, “and I haven’t had it as easy as you. I hardly get on well with anyone in my house but Robb. I’m constantly reminded of the fact that I don’t really belong…”

“You do.” Sansa interrupts, “if I belong in Slytherin, you belong in Gryffindor. The hat doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Perhaps not,” he says, “but people can. And I feel everything I do for Gryffindor is seen as a mistake. Then everything I do for my family is seen as a mistake.”

“I’m sorry…” She says, her hand reaching out and resting it on his knee where it sat next to hers. “You know, I never really thought about how you went through, or are going through, what I am. I’ve honestly never looked at you and seen anything but my brother’s Gryffindor friend.”

“How flattering that I’m only your brothers friend and nothing else. I’ve spent how many summers at your house?”

“The key word was Gryffindor, Theon.” She teases, “and yeah, you’ve spent summers there but we don’t exactly cross paths often.”

He shrugs with a laugh, “perhaps not. But maybe we should have. Shared notes on how it feels being the black sheep of a family.” He tilts his head, looking over to her and suddenly realizing how blue her eyes are. It complements the silver of her tie.

“Perhaps we should have,” she repeats, a small smile playing at her lips and Theon has to look away before any other thoughts come to his mind.

“Come on, curfews soon and if you still want to be prefect next year you need to not start a reputation for breaking it.” He stands and holds a hand down to her to help her up.

“And you?” She takes his hand and looks at him. He hadn’t realized she was as tall as him. “If I recall you are more often caught breaking it than not.”

“Well, I already am a disgrace to my house and family so what’s curfew to me?” He says, earning a singsong laugh before she waves to him goodbye. The pair splitting, the Stark going to the dungeons of Slytherin and the Greyjoy the tower of Gryffindor.

~

Somehow that night in the hall had shifted things in how Theon saw and interacted with Sansa. Before he’d been courteous as expected with a friends’ sister, the two had only joked sparingly over summer meals with the family, and at school interacted only when Robb was the reason. But after that apparent heart-to-heart in the halls of Hogwarts the two spoke more. Saw each other more.

It was simple things, waving when passing while walking about the grounds and halls. Sharing glances and smiles across the great hall during meals. Sitting together during non-Slytherin-vs.-Gryffindor games to cheer on Robb and Arya.

During the summer it changed even further it seemed. Robb was distracted, he’d gotten heavily involved with Jeyne Westerling over the last month of school, and thus during the summer was often spending his time with her. Thus Theon was left to wander the grounds of Winterfell. It wasn’t long before he would happen upon Sansa who spent most of her summer at home with a book, still sappy and romance based but steadily getting more adult, in her lap. He’d join her when she went out on the grounds to read when the days were particularly nice, he’d sit nearby practicing his spell motions or he’d just sit, staring off into the sky as she read nearby. He doesn’t know why he enjoyed this, but he did. It made him think faintly of days long ago when he’d sit on the beach of Pyke with his mother nearby.

When school came back around the two could count themselves friends. Unlikely friends, but friends. Robb was oblivious, still too preoccupied by Jeyne Westerling and being the new quidditch captain to notice his best friends growing closeness to his sister, or his growing crush. A thing that Theon ignored even when Jon questioned him about it.

“Are you and Sansa doing something together?”

“Doing something?” Theon asked with a brow raised, “well she said she’d help me later with my dueling spells for defense against the dark arts. But that is about it?”

“Theon you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” Theon smirked and walked away before Jon could press further. Theon didn’t want to think about Sansa that way. Even if, unconsciously, he did. He couldn’t think about her that way, for plenty of reasons but the main being that Robb, and likely Ned Stark, would hex him to all hell if he did. Besides, Sansa wouldn’t look at him that way and he couldn’t blame her. She dated people like Harry Hardyng or Willas Tyrell. Older boys with pretty faces and prettier family names than Greyjoy.

~

It was one of the last games of the year. The deciding game between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor for which would go against Slytherin in the last game of the year. Robb had been training and stressing for the last month to the point of annoying Theon and Jon with his late night need to go over quidditch plays.

Theon sits at the edge of the Gryffindor area, beside him Sansa stands, watching her brother with intense eyes and cheering along where she can. Her red hair whips about her despite a headband holding it back, her face was flush and Theon had to look away before he noted the way the sun shone down upon her and made her almost glow. Beside him Jon watches Arya, who bounds about the pitch, keeping her eyes peeled for the snitch.

Sansa jumps when a bludger hits Robb, her brother nearly knocked from the broom but holding steadily enough to it that he doesn’t fall. He’s sat still a few moments catching himself while Sansa watches intensely before he flies back off, shouting over to Gendry, one of Gryffindors beaters, to keep a better eye on them.

“Arya’s spotted it!” Jon shouts over the cheering to the pair of them, “look!” he points and they all watch as Arya dips her broom and starts a descent towards something only she seems to have seen.

Sansa glances fleetingly to her sister before looking back just in time to see Robb score another goal. She jumps back up clapping, cheering on her brother.

“Gods Stark, if you’re going to cheer on Gryffindor so much might as well switch houses. Spare the rest of us!” A voice calls from the Slytherin bleachers. Myranda, Theon recognizes the witch from his potions class.

“But then Slytherin would never win house cup with all my points going to Gryffindor.” Sansa called back, not even deigning to look over to the other girl but instead still smiling and clapping on her brother.

“Bitch,” Theon just barely hears Myranda whisper to the Slytherin boy beside her who just smirks with a dark look upon his face.

Theon turns back to the game and watches as Robb scores once more before his attention is caught by Arya who zips past the stands, a little gold flash ahead of her and the Ravenclaw seeker close on her tail.

It’s not long before the whole of Gryffindor is stood on the stands, clapping and cheering as Arya holds the snitch high above her with Robb cheering her on, a beaming look upon his face. Sansa smiles proudly, shouting praise to her sister and cheering on her family.

As they leave the stands she walks ahead of Theon, moving quick to catch her brother and sister before they head to the Gryffindor common room. She’s only ten feet ahead when the boy Theon had spotted earlier with Myranda points his wand towards her, “hope you know better than to cheer on Gryffindor next game, Sansa.”

Sansa stops short, looking at him with an uninterested look and says, “of course Ramsay, so long as Slytherin wins I'll cheer with just as much enthusiasm.” She starts to turn away when Theon spots the boy whisper something, his wand still pointed at Sansa and then she falls like a brick. Hitting the ground with a scream on her lips and Myranda laughing shrilly beside Ramsay as he holds the wand over her.

Theon charges forward, seeing nothing but red and Ramsay. He doesn’t hesitate when his fist flies out to hit the laughing snake. His wand forgotten in his pocket and if he was honest a curse wouldn’t feel as good as the cracking of bone when his fist connects with Ramsay’s jaw. The wand flying from his hand, and Myranda shouting but Theon pushes her away as he hits Ramsay again sending him to the ground like he’d sent Sansa.

He stands over Ramsay, who looks up at him bloody and smiling. Theon is about to punch him again when Jon shouts out. “Help me with Sansa.” Turning back, he spots Sansa still upon the ground, eyes closed and her breathing rough.

“Try anything again and I’ll not stop next time.” Theon warns before rushing over to help Jon. He lifts her quickly and follows Jon through the thinning crowd and into Hogwarts. He feels Sansa shaking slightly as her head lolls over onto him. 

~

Sansa was in the hospital wing a week. She was only conscious the last three days of that week.

Theon stayed with her in that wing for a week. Half-asleep in the chair beside her bed and only leaving when told he had to, and even then usually sneaking back after curfew to be found curled up in that same chair.

When she woke with a cough she’d startled him so much that he reached out and grabbed her hand. “Are you okay?” He asks panicked, “do you need anything.”

“I’m fine,” her voice croaked and she coughed, “some water would be nice?” and Theon was quick to hand it to her. “Did Ramsay Bolton curse me?” She asks after she drank nearly the whole glass.

“He did,” Theon responded tensely. He looked down at his scabbed knuckles before sayin, “he got expelled, it was a curse that could’ve killed you if he’d done it any stronger.” He doesn’t sit back, instead he stays leant towards her. “I should have killed him.”

“Theon…” her blue eyes wide, “then you’d be expelled to and then who would be hogging the chair by my bed.” He smiles slightly, relieved that she was well enough to joke with him.

“I should let your brothers and Arya know you’re okay.” He says, starting to get up but she reaches out, grabbing his hand the way he’d grabbed hers.

“I’m too tired to be smothered by them right now,” she doesn’t release his hand, “can you just stay. Get them later, or let the nurse do it.”

He swallows hard, “you want me to stay?”

“Of course I want you to stay,” she says it as though it were obvious. She squeezes his hand and looks him firmly in the eyes, “I’d always want you to stay.”

“You don’t want me to go get Margaery, or that Harry guy.”

“Harry and I broke up weeks ago,” she tells him, her hand holding his. “and Margaery would just smother me as much as Robb will.” She bites her lip and looks away, “I just want you here.” She pauses before she loosens her grip and adds quickly, “but I understand if you’d rather not be here, I imagine you have other things… I mean you have that girl, Ros you’ve been seeing.”

“Ros and I aren’t a thing.” He says, preoccupied with missing the feeling of her gripping his hand. “And I don’t have anywhere to be, if anything I don’t have anywhere I’d rather be.”

“Oh,” she says, her breath nervous and her eyes looking at him, waiting. “Okay, then…”

“Then I’ll stay.” He finishes, moving his chair closer and gripping her hand again. “As long as you want me to.” She smiles, soft and beautiful and everything Theon could want directed at him.

“Okay.” She says, soft as air. “You’ll stay.”

~

So Theon stayed. He stayed with Sansa while she was in the hospital wing. Only leaving when she told him he had to go to class or he’d end up in more trouble than was worth. _It was all worth it_, he thought. But he did it, because he realized that he really liked the glowing smile she got when he would return from class. A bright smile and a small blush when she recalled that Bran was with her and looking between the two of them with the look that said he knew something even they didn’t.

And hey, maybe Bran did. The boy was a Seer after all.

Though it didn’t matter, Theon didn’t intend on anything but staying with Sansa till she told him to leave.

But she didn’t.

Quite the contrary. Instead, the first day after she’d left the hospital wing he’d received an enchanted note with excellent penmanship inviting him up to the spot they’d had that first real talk near two years ago. When he gets there he finds her leading him about until they come to a small door and she leads him into it.

Inside is a small room, a wall with books and a little nook with a window overlooking the grounds. “Theon.” She says firmly, utterly serious, “This is a spot I’ve shown no one. If you show someone I will be very cross with you.”

“Not a soul,” she smiles at him and leads him towards the nook. “How did you find it?” He looks out the window and realizes, “this shouldn’t be here, why is there a window.”

“It’s called the room of requirement.” She tells him, “it becomes whatever you need it to be.”

“And you need a reading nook?”

“I need an escape.” She answers, “escape from family, from the rest of Slytherin.”

“And you showed me this…”

“Because I want you with me.” She says her eyes glancing away to look out the window, “even when I escape…” She looks more nervous now, less of the confident Sansa he knows and more as though she’s building her courage to say something. “Because I fancy you. A lot.” Her eyes flick back to him, watching, waiting.

_I fancy you. A lot._ The words ring in Theons head and he looks at her with a dumbstruck look that makes her nervous one turn a warm red.

“Please say something.”

“Okay.” Is all he manages, striding forward to close the distance between them and his hand pushes back a strand of hair from her face. He hesitates only a second before leaning closer. His heart loud in his ears and every fear of being rejected by her forced down deep. He kisses her, softly and hesitant at first. Fearful thoughts of how fragile she’d looked only a few days before, reeling from a curse, still stuck in his mind. But he deepens the kiss, tasting the tart sweetness of what was most likely lemon cakes had in the great hall early this day on her lips but also the sweetness of some wish he’d never thought to come true. He’d never thought to kiss her; he’d pushed those thoughts away. Pushed the idea of having something, anything, with Sansa from his mind for fear that it could never be. He was not what she wanted, he was not what she desired.

But he was, evidently. As she deepened the kiss even further, pulling him into her with a hand clutching his robes and another wrapping around him to keep him there. She returned his passion and apparent apprehension but lost it as he moved his kiss along her jaw. She laughed, not at him but because it couldn’t be kept in unless his lips were on hers. “Gods,” she whispered, her breath warm against his face. “I’m glad that didn’t go the way I thought.”

“What did you think?” He asks, the pair still inexplicably close, neither seemingly wanting to release the other.

“That you saw me only as Robbs little sister still.” She spoke breathlessly and with a smile stuck to her lips. “Not like you wanted to do…”

“This?” he asks before pressing a kiss to her neck. “or this.” He asks again as he moves back to her lips, stealing a kiss that wasn’t stolen but given.

“Yes, that.” She said when he pulled back. “So…” she starts, chewing nervously once more at her lip, “Will you stay with me here?”

“As long as you want me.” He replied before kissing her again.


	2. Part 2

Four months after their kiss in the Room of Requirements the two were found in Winterfell’s garden snogging beneath an old tree by a shocked Robb Stark.

The two had kept their relationship to their hidden room, or the edge of the lake, or back in Winterfell under the old tree or in either of the others room. Not because they were afraid of the reactions to them being together, or ashamed in any way. It was simply a self-proclaimed selfishness to not share the first tenuous months of this new thing with anyone but each other. They had plans to spend the summer just together, no other input on the relationship necessary. Then they would share the news before leaving for Hogwarts at the end of summer.

But then, on an otherwise spectacularly good day, the two had settled into the garden together. Sansa sat leant against the old weirwood with her legs stretched out before her and a book lazily held within her hand. She glanced up over her book periodically to watch as Theon sat at the edge of the small pool of water, his pants rolled up above his knees and his wand out making the water move in varying ways.

“I think you’re abusing your new right to use magic.”

“I’ve waited six years to be able to use magic outside of school again,” he calls back to her, “I think I deserve to make the water more interesting considering you’re robbing me of what I’d much rather be doing.”

“Oh?” She set her book beside her and raises a brow at him, her eyes studying him intensely. “And what is it you’d much rather be doing?”

He smirked, his own eyes trailing across her legs, outstretched and bare up to the mid-thigh. “Well…” he remarks lowly, “something to do with my mouth…” he said the words slowly, setting his wand to his side and sliding away from the edge of the pool. “And your skin,” he crawled towards her, stopping at her ankles and leaning down, “Perhaps something like this.” He pressed a kiss to her ankle and she laughed a song-like sound.

“Oh,” she remarks, “Something like _that_.” He looked up at her, his eyes smoldering and catching her own teasingly tempting ones. “Well, I think I need a bit more of an example of what exactly you’re wanting.”

“Very well,” he leans back down, kissing further up her leg and creating a trail up until he meets the edge of her skirt. He glances up then and moves beside her, leaning forward and kissing her collar. He pulls away and asks, “was that enough of an example or did you need more?”

“Theon,” she breathes his name and he looks up at her. Her lips parted still from his name and her eyes bright. Her hand reaches for his face, using just her index to push his face up and pull him towards her until they were face to face and she could lean forward. Her lips finding his and pulling him to her. He moves the rest of his body with it, a hand tangling itself in her hair like he’d learned she’d loved these last few months. His other resting to keep him propped up against her. 

He was pulling her with him, sitting himself up straighter and wrapping his free hand around her back when he heard the loud sound of Robb shouting “What the actual fuck.” And Theon fell back away from Sansa, who was turning a bright red when she spotted her brother standing at the other side of the small pond. “What the fuck?” Robb repeated his eyes darting between the two of them and Theon staring at his friend.

Theon hadn’t thought he’d be this anxious when Robb found out. The times when he and Sansa had talked about it he’d played it off. Sure, Robb would probably be upset and do the whole ‘hurt my sister and I’ll kill you’ spiel even though they are best friends to the point of being brothers. But that being his only worry fell away as Theon was actually in the moment of Robb discovering them.

For one this wasn’t exactly the way they’d planned him learning. He’d planned for them to be sitting him down, telling him calmly in a situation where they were in control of the information. He did not plan for Robb to discover the two of them out in the garden, Theon kissing his sister heavier than Robb would probably ever want to see. Theon certainly didn’t want to know when Robb happened upon them, hoping it was at the same moment he’d spoken, and not any earlier.

But Theon also felt fear surge through his entire being. What if Robb kicked him out over this? He was living here because Robb was his friend and the Starks were nice like that. But if Robb got angry with him would the Eddard Stark kick him out? Hell, would Ned Stark kick him out when he found out? Theon dreaded the idea of having to go home to Pyke. To his uncles and newly released father.

He watched, nerves piling upon nerves as the seconds seemed to go by like minutes with Robb looking between the two.

“Robb,” Sansa said breaking the silence. Her voice sheepish before she straightened herself, Theon felt her hand reach and grab his but he didn’t take his eyes off of Robb. “Robb, if you’re going to say something, say it, otherwise I worry your head is going to rocket off.”

“What the fuck?” is all Robb says, again. And this time instead of going pitch red or staying quiet Sansa laughed. Theon felt her lean over, her forehead resting against his shoulder and Theon was acutely aware of Robb watching the closeness Sansa didn’t even think about.

“Is that all you can say?” She turned her head against Theon’s shoulder to look at her brother. “Seriously?”

“When did this happen?” Robb finally says, his voice sharp and brow furrowed in a way that worries Theon.

“Four months ago,” she states plainly, “after Ramsey cursed me and I was in the infirmary for a week.”

Robb almost says something but pauses, he looks away from them and instead glares at the grass at his feet. Finally, “why didn’t you say anything? I mean, merlin, four months is a long time to do… _this_ behind my back?” He motions at the two of them.

“We just didn’t want to yet,” Sansa says, lifting her head from Theons shoulder and staring her brother down. “Look, Robb, I know that it’s probably weird for you. But it wasn’t your business. Not until we decided to say something.”

“Well that… I mean that’s not fair.” Robb stutters, “you’re my bloody sister! And Theons basically my brother so I… that… that goes beyond weird.”

“He’s not my brother,” Sansa groans. “Gods, Robb. I know it’s weird, and I’m sorry we didn’t say anything. But I like Theon. Okay? Like, a lot. More than any other guy I’ve dated, all of whom you’ve hated I might add.” Robb was clenching his jaw, not entirely meeting Sansas firm look but instead his eyes still flicked between them both periodically. “He makes me happier than I thought someone could. I mean I don’t know how to describe it.”

Robb stares the two of them down after Sansa finishes and Theon awaits some explosion of anger or acceptance or anything but silence. “Theon?” Robbs voice sends a new shot of nerves through him. “Are you going to say anything?”

“I… uh…” Theon sighs. “I know that you won’t like this. I guess I hoped if I could bring it up myself to you later, it would go easier. I mean I understand how it looks. I don’t have the cleanest reputation…” he shouldn’t bring that up, Theon thinks. “But I don’t know what else to say except that I really like Sansa. And have no intentions of doing anything to hurt her. Ever.” He looks down at the pool, finding Robbs reflection in the still water and watching that as though it would make things easier if Robb freaks out.

But Robb is near as still as the water, silent as it as well. It feels like forever before Robb lets out a breath and says to them, “fine. I guess this is fine.” Theon doesn’t move his eyes from the pool, “I mean I can’t exactly tell you that you can’t.”

“No,” Sansa says, “you can’t. But that doesn’t mean we don’t want you to be okay with this.”

Robb is quiet, “I… fine. Okay I’m okay with it.” But Theon was not totally convinced as Robb turned and his reflection left the water.

~

Robb avoids Theon the rest of summer.

He doesn’t ignore him, just avoids, though perhaps it was the same thing.

After Robb discovered them they gave up trying to keep the relationship to themselves, telling the rest of the family that evening before they went on a walk about the grounds. Most of which involved Sansa reassuring Theon that Robb would come around, it was a shock that he needed time with.

Theon didn’t know if time was the key or what because a month later Theon was with Sansa and her friends on the train instead of Robb and Jon and he feels as though he could hit something. Or cry. But more likely he’d probably hit something before he ever cried.

At first the whole thing hurt more than anything. He hadn’t thought that Robb would avoid him as much as he did. He thought maybe he’d be angry or hurt or whatever a few weeks at most. Perhaps he’d come and yell at Theon, or hit him. Something other than avoiding.

Theon was utterly unprepared for avoiding.

It hurt more that it was their last year. He’d been expecting to spend the year between kissing Sansa as much as he could, which he was doing, and causing the usual trouble with Robb. Robb was supposed to help him with his NEWTS as well, so the pair of them could graduate with good enough scores to get accepted as aurors after school ended and they were thrown into the real world.

Sansa helped when she noticed he’d started struggling. Making him study for a while in the Room of Requirement before they could get to anything he actually wanted to be doing with her in there. He also learned later that she stopped Robb in the halls once and near yelled at him, though her voice was controlled and collected as expected from her.

Theon was tired of missing his best friend that he wasn’t upset anymore, just angry. He wanted to yell at Robb himself, and not in the controlled or collected way, but in the way his brothers would yell at him when they were angry.

He didn’t, only because he knew it would upset Sansa and that he’d likely regret it a few moments later. That and the whole avoiding thing.

Its two months into the school year and with most of the upperclassmen off at Hogsmeade when Theon runs into Robb while wandering the halls. Robb was drenched, coming in from the quidditch pitch because of some rain, and Theon considered ignoring him and to continue walking past. But Robb had stopped when he saw him, alone in the near empty halls of Hogwarts and sighed. So Theon stopped as well. He didn’t say anything, neither of them did for several moments of just standing. The only sound the rain and the dripping of Robbs hair onto the stone flooring.

“I figured you’d be out in Hogsmeade, with Jeyne or Jon.”

“Jon went with Ygritte, a date or something.” Robb says, “and Jeyne had some girl thing to do with her friends.”

“Ah,” Theon says, looking down to his feet and running it over a scuff on the floor. “Well, I imagine you still have time to head out there and find something to do.”  
“Nah,” Robb said, moving his broom over his shoulder, “I… I don’t like going without a reason.”

Theon looks up at Robb and thinks back to third year, he’d been sat alone in the third year dorms and glaring at the permission slip. Unsigned by his father and taunting him with the fact that he couldn’t join his friends. Then Robb had come through the door, plopped onto Theons bed with a chess board and moved his wand to get it set. When Theon had asked why he wasn’t at Hogsmeade with everyone else he’d responded simply with “it sounded lame, and I didn’t have any reason that sounded fun.”

Theon studies Robb’s face, it was hesitant, his own eyes searching Theons for likely the same thing. “Well, I uh was going to head to the kitchens to steal some snacks if you want to come with?” He waited until Robb nodded to start moving. He hadn’t been planning on going to the kitchens, he hadn’t been planning on anything but wandering the halls, but now he followed the path he knows well to the kitchens with Robb quiet beside him and wonders whether he should say something.

They’re both quiet all the way to the kitchens. In the kitchens they only speak so much as to get the left-over food from breakfast and then they go back to a blunt silence hanging over them well until they settle into the seventh year dormitory and sit down beside each other. The food scattered before them, leant back against the bed, and the silence at its limit like a rubber band being stretched too far.

“I’m sorry,” Robb spoke first. His focus entirely on the muffin in his hand. “I… I guess I freaked out. I didn’t know what to think about all of it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Theon says, he hadn’t thought it before but he knew it wasn’t false. “I probably should have, at least sooner than what we’d planned.”

“So you were going to tell me? Eventually?”

“Of course I was going to tell you,” Theon scoffs, “I mean what did you think I’d secretly be with your sister the rest of my life?”

“You’re that serious?” Robb blurted, “I mean, that it will last the rest of your life.”

That gave Theon pause. He hadn’t thought about the words, just said them because they were what came to him. He pulls a piece of toast apart as he thinks. He expects a panic over that but it doesn’t come so he says. “Yeah, maybe. I mean I hope.” He shrugs and tosses the torn bread into his mouth. “Look, Robb. I meant what I said about liking Sansa and having no intention to hurt her. That includes breaking up with her. For one, me breaking up with Sansa? That’s dumb, I mean she’s far out of my league I’d have to be an idiot to end things myself. But also I have no intentions to leave until she tells me to.” He glances over to Robb, “which I mean I hope will never happen.”

“So you’re in love with my sister?” Robb asked and once again Theon is at a loss.

But he doesn’t linger on it for long before saying, “yeah. I guess I’m in love with Sansa.” He presses his lips together before sighing. “Though I haven’t even said it to her yet so don’t ruin that for me.”

Robb laughed a quick sound. “Do I have to go through the whole ‘killing you if you hurt her’ thing?”

“No Arya covered that for you while you were away.” Theon laughs. “I thought she was going to kill me during that conversation, you know all preemptive strike.” Robb joins his laughter and the two spend the rest of the day inside, eating leftover breakfast and catching up on near three months of missing each other.

~

The day things turned for the worse Sansa had been sitting in the Slytherin common room with Maergery. The two of them playing a short game of wizard’s chess, Maergery telling Sansa about her date and Sansa enjoying the moment of simplicity. Her mother and father had written a few weeks back, difficulties in the Ministry with Robert and they had left a cryptic warning about pure-blood extremists moving forward.

Sansa hadn’t had trouble noting that that warning was pointed particularly at her.

She couldn’t really bring herself to care about troubles in the ministry, or wizards who believed themselves better than muggles or other wizards. She was too happy these last few months to care about anything outside Hogwarts.

Theon and Robb’s reunion had proved a large part of her own mood improvement. She loved seeing Theon happy again, he would never have admitted it but he’d missed Robb immensely and had been overtly depressed by their fight. Sansa had felt guilty to be sure, that it was their relationship that had driven a wedge in her brother’s and Theon’s own.

But they’d made up, and when they had Theon had told her with a smile so big Sansa could only meet it in kind.

Theon and Robbs reunion had also helped this past Christmas be spectacularly enjoyable for Sansa. She’d begun to get worried as they neared it and the two boys were still not talking, as Robb had been particularly moody whenever she’d managed to get his attention. But with them both back as brothers and her and Theon as good as ever winter break had been so pleasant that Sansa had almost hated that they’d had to return to Hogwarts. Snowy days in Winterfell with Theon cuddled against her in the early morning and late evening had been exactly what she didn’t know she’d wanted.

Not to even mention the gift he’d given her.

It had been simple, a small simple silver locket. One she hadn’t taken off since he gave it to her. The best part of it being the words inscribed inside. _As long as you want me._ Written in green emerald that shifted when the light hit it and a thing Sansa peered at whenever she needed a reason to smile. It had surprised her, the gentleness of the gift. But Theon always surprised her with how he acted, it always acting in contradiction to how he presents to most of the world.

She needed the gift, and Theon, when the news arrived.

It was Theon who came to get her. He knew the password for the door to Slytherins common room and didn’t ever care before about the rules considering the frequency he’d snuck in so far during the year. He’d pulled her away from the chess game and out into the hall, dragging her along while she asked what was wrong until they stopped in a little alcove, her siblings and Jon all there already.

Theon had walked away, leaving her there with her siblings who all wore worried looks upon their face but Bran who held the letter in his hand and had the look that Sansa knew was his look for bad news.

Grave news.

She’d listened, as Bran read it. His voice even but she could note the bit of pain in his eyes as he read it.

He’d known the news before the letter arrived. He’d seen it before the owl had even flown to deliver it.

“Father was killed.” Bran’s words ring in her ears. “During an attack on the ministry.”

Arya shouted, angry words that fell deafly on Sansa’s ears as she turned away from her family. She didn’t walk away; she simply didn’t want to see them or for them to see her as tears fell in waves from her eyes. Her hand gripping her locket and her heart aching with every beat as Robb speaks.

“We have to do something,” his voice was an echo, distant as though it was carried to her by wind. “We can’t just do nothing.”

“The minister was killed as well.” Bran spoke, “actions are being taken against the few who were caught trying to flee.”

“But father…” Arya said, her voice as tense as Sansa felt.

“Was Roberts closet advisor,” Bran said, “and a known supporter of moving away from pure-blood ideals. They targeted half-bloods and people who had sympathies for muggles and muggle-born wizards and witches.”

“Do they know who did it?” Sansa finally spoke, still faced away, still tear-stained and falling.

“A Lannister was caught at the scene, as well as a Bolton and a Frey.”

Sansa nodded grimly, and wiped at her face. “Mother?”

“Alive, but…”

“Gods,” Robb breathed, “I’m going to talk with the headmaster, I need to go home. We all should.”

“We can’t just abandon school Robb,” Sansa turned back, her tears wiped away and her composure back up. “A few days maybe, but we can’t go on some vigilante crusade against who did this. Father wouldn’t want us to.”

“Are you saying we just let who did this get away? You think father would want that?” Arya looked at her, eyes aflame with anger.

“No, of course not,” Sansa said, her own voice cracking in a way that made her more upset. “But Robb still has a few months left, he’ll graduate and start training as an auror. He can chase them then, but he has to graduate.”

“I don’t want to stay,” Arya says firmly, “not when there’s Lannisters and Freys and all those others walking smugly about Hogwarts knowing we can’t do a thing, or believing that we’re too afraid to.”

“Arya,” Sansa starts.

“No!” She shouted, “I can’t believe your taking their side. Or perhaps I should, considering.”

Sansa stepped back from her sister. “Because I’m a Slytherin I’m excusing the actions of hate? Lest we forget that many Lannisters are Gryffindors?”

“Our house isn’t known for dark magic! Our house isn’t known for hating muggles, or half-bloods, or for killing those who they believe less than.”

“Our house…” Sansa shook her head, “what about our family? Do you think me so different from you all that I would be so hateful? So evil to have any kind of hand or support in these attacks?”

“I don’t know, Sansa, are you?” Arya snapped anger flush in her voice and her eyes glaring darkly towards Sansa.

Sansa returned the glare, but felt her own start to shatter before Arya’s would. She turned away quickly, a sob caught in her throat as she moved away from her family.

“Arya!” Robb scolded, his voice tense, and older sounding. _He sounds like father._

Sansa was near running when she heard just faintly her sister say slightly weaker, “I didn’t mean it…” Sansa was running when the sound of her sister calling her name carried towards her.

~

She sat alone, curled up on herself staring out the window in the room of requirement for a few hours before Theon came.

Staring out the window at the grounds of Hogwarts she feels like she’s staring at another world.

She wishes faintly that it were raining. It felt like it should be raining.

Instead it was sunny, and she could see different people in groups and by themselves lounging about outside. Enjoying the sun, and the warmth, and the blissful ignorance that comes with not having your world torn from you.

She willed it to rain but nothing came.

Even her tears had dried up. None left to fall after she’d came in here and found release. The whole run through the halls and up the changing staircases she’d kept her tears in, willed them to stay. She wouldn’t cry where someone could see her. She just wouldn’t. And so she didn’t, not until the doors to the room of requirement swung shut with a cacophonous slam and left her alone in the room that had been her sanctuary for years.

She hadn’t even made it to the window seat before she’d stumbled to the ground, curling her arms around herself she rode out the waves of anger and hurt and sadness and grief. And even when the waves settled and she pulled herself up and to the window she still felt all those things and more.

It just hurt. All the feelings piled upon her. She wanted to go back to this morning, when she held no worries or foul emotions but the ones dedicated to her potions exam in a few days. She wanted to go back to this morning when her sister was nice and her brother was light-hearted and her father was alive.

Her father is dead.

She rests her head against the glass and closes her eyes. Bringing her father to her mind she found him smiling, a soft look that had smile-lines and laughter at his eyes. But then she saw blood and pain and darkness swallowing him before she opened her eyes and let the light of the sunny day outside fill her.

The sound of the door opening drew her back to herself, turning away from the sight of some Hufflepuff first year chasing another across the lawn.

Theon walked through the doorway, worry strewn across his face as he crossed the room and came up to her. He hesitated when he got to her, apparently unsure if she wished to be alone or not at the moment. But she was tired of being alone, she’d been alone for a few hours now and wanted nothing more than Theon to comfort her.

So she reached across the distance, pulling him to her and giving him the go ahead to wrap his arms about her. She moved just so much that he could settle behind her on the seat, and then she leant into him. All of her resting upon him as though the only thing keeping her from falling to her doom was his arms. As though if she weren’t laying back against him she’d fall to her back and just fall through the world.

~

It was hard. Two weeks of worrying over Sansa while she was at home with her family.

Theon had wanted to go with. But he wasn’t family. Not really. He wasn’t a Stark.

So he was alone in Hogwarts, waiting for the family he had left to return from mourning. And mourning himself more than he realized he would.

Robb was like a brother to him. But he hadn’t realized how much Ned Stark had been a father to him until he had died.

His own father was harsh, unkind, and quick to yelling and anger. Theon hadn’t known any different that first summer he’d spent with the Starks.

He’d shown up at their doorstep in the middle of the night. Nothing but a backpack and his wand with him.

Robb had been asleep. So had the whole of the house, save Ned Stark. Who’d been up doing something Theon still didn’t have a clue about. He’d spotted Theon, sat on the doorstep with his backpack against the wall as a pillow.

Theon had intended to wait there till morning, to wait until Robb woke up and he could ask to stay. But Ned Stark had opened the door and told him to come inside. He’d looked at Theon, in the ill-fitting hand me downs of his brothers with a black eye and a bloody lip and he’d sat him down in the kitchen before pulling out an ice pack and some food.

He’d asked questions, simple ones that didn’t dig farther than was kind. It had felt some kind of official, all about the facts of why Theon was there and why he had left. The questioning had worked to remind Theon of the fact that Ned Stark had been an auror before switching to a more bureaucratic position in the department of magical law enforcement. When he finished he had Theon follow him up the stairs and to a guest room and bathroom.

The next morning he’d met with Robb at breakfast. His friend angry at the sight of Theons face and quick to say he could stay. But Theon had worried most the day, worried that the night before had been some test and he’d had to have failed. But after dinner that evening Ned had extended a more formal invitation, telling him he could stay in their home as long as he felt he needed it. He’d added that that included if he always needed it.

As the two weeks passed slowly, Theon recalled those type of moments. He recalled Ned taking him back to Pyke his third year when news of his mother’s illness had reached him. He recalled when he told him everything he had wanted to know about his father’s arrest two years back, of his brothers’ deaths. He answered every question Theon posed honestly.

Theon recalled last summer. When he and Sansa had walked hand and hand about the grounds and Ned hadn’t voiced distrust or disapproval. He’d given a silent approval that Theon hopes would extend even now, as tensions in the wizard community rise and House Greyjoy rises with it.

~

Graduation came quickly and they all returned to Winterfell. And Theon was immensely happy to be done with his NEWTs and school and to finally know that he graduated well enough that both his and Robbs letters to the auror office at the ministry had accepted both their applications.

It was odd, knowing he’d be heading to start training in a few short weeks to become something he’d been warned against his first eleven years of life. But he wasn’t about to back out now. For one he didn’t know what else he could do, but also he wanted to fight beside Robb.

He certainly didn’t want to entertain the idea of fighting against him.

Sansa was excited for him as well. Celebrating when he’d gotten the letter in a way Theon enjoyed immensely with the two of them spending the entire day entangled in Sansa’s room and ignoring everyone else in the entire house to be just the two of them. Sansa abusing her ability to use magic outside of Hogwarts to keep the door locked and bring food up for them when hungry.

Life in Winterfell after Ned Starks death was different. Catelyn Stark was harsher since her husband’s death, softness saved only for her children.

Theon hadn’t been able to ignore the glare she’d lent his way when he arrived with the rest of the Starks from Hogwarts. He certainly hadn’t been able to ignore all the others since then, especially when he was with Sansa. But he understood it. Though there had been no way to prove his or any other Greyjoys involvement in the attack at the ministry it was harder to believe they had no involvement than to believe they did.

It didn’t make it easier, so he avoided Catelyn Stark as best he could around the house.

Which became easier once he and Robb spent most their days at the auror office in the Ministry, put up against the intense training and leading most of their evenings to be spent exhausted. Theon collapsing in Sansa’s bed with his head in her lap while she laughed at his overdramatic show of exhaustion and continued to read her book while stroking absently at his hair.

The days of summer went quickly, and before they knew it Theon was stood on platform 9 and ¾ kissing Sansa goodbye before she headed off to her final year at Hogwarts.

~

Early march Theon and Robb left the ministry offices for a small boat house in search of some sign of dark magic.

A report had come in earlier that morning. It wasn’t as serious sounding as some of the other reports they’d been getting, and as such they sent the two newest aurors to investigate. They’d been told it would be good training, but also that whoever was there was likely long gone.

It was a stormy part of year, perhaps that should have been some warning to them. But both ignored it’s foreboding aura and instead Robb simply complained over the rain while they moved towards the small shack.

A rustle in the brush off behind them, combined by a flash of light that was definitely not lighting sent Robb that direction. Leaving Theon to search out the boat house alone.

“Lumos,” he whispered, his breath coming out in a fog before him and his wand lighting up the small area about him.

He has to push roughly against the door of the shack, and when it gives he nearly stumbles through the doorway before catching himself and moving cautiously. The inside was as foul looking as the outside. An overturned boat with its wood rotting sat in the middle of it, around plants were growing and overtaking the space, and Theon winced at the smell of rotting fish from somewhere near a bunch of barrels and crates.

He moved only a few feet forward when the door closed behind him with a slam.

Turning on his heel he prepared a spell in his mind only to stop in his tracks.

Stood in front of the door was a man he hadn’t seen in years. Not since his third year of Hogwarts. Theon had been shorter then, and scared for his mother’s health. But his mother was with her family now, and back then he’d had Ned Stark between him and his father.

Thinner than Theon, and smaller than he remembered Balon Greyjoy looked gaunt and hollowed, dark circles to his eyes that Theon recalled as a permanent feature. His hair was grayer than Theon recalled as well, but still just as long. The man before Theon was bone hard, bone gaunt, and staring down Theon with eyes of flint. Eyes so black and beady and looking at Theon with a level of hardness and disappointment to them that brought Theon back to the feelings of an eleven-year-old boy face to face with a howler in the great hall.

“Theon,” his father’s voice was harsh. “Four years, has it been?”

“Five,” Theon replied, his wand held so tight in his hand that he wondered if he might accidentally snap it. But he didn’t raise it against his father. No, it lowered the second he’d seen him. Whether out of fear or duty or respect Theon couldn’t say.

“You were a boy then, thrown over your mother and escorted by a Stark.” His father’s voice is as harsh as the thunder that clapped over them distantly. “Dressed in red and gold and hiding out with a family of blood-traitors in the summers.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Theon breathes the words, “I didn’t feel like I belonged at Pyke, not with my red and gold.”

“You chose to leave your family, while your brothers died for true causes and I was sent to Azkaban you chose to play Gryffindor and Stark.” A flash of lightening cast harsh shadows on Balon Greyjoys face, making him bigger and bringing Theon back to the sight of the Howler. His voice sounded the same here as it had then, and Theon cowed beneath it still. “But you have a chance to still chose your family. To choose your blood.”

Theon felt colder than he’d ever had as his father stared him down. “Our family and others of pure blood have been building to this for years. Taking back the ministry, taking back the wizarding world as a whole. The attack several months ago was only the beginning, more will come and you will be at our side for it. All you need is the dark mark to bind you to our cause. Then you can prove yourself worthy of our family again.”

Theon noticed it then, at his side his father’s arm bore a mark Theon had seen all his childhood but ignored until this day. A skull, and a snake coming from it, moving slightly to the eye when a wand is put to it. The dark mark, a remnant of another pure-blood uprising decades ago, and one still held to bind together those of still believed in it.

“I can’t do that,” Theon breathed the words to life but they felt flat compared to his father’s booming voice, “I’m an auror, I have people I care for that could be hurt by this…” He thought of Robb, of Sansa, and of Winterfell.

“You will take it; you will leave with me today.” Balon’s voice growing sharper as he spoke. “Or you will never be a Greyjoy again, you will never be allowed back again, your name will be removed, not even remembered.”

Theon gritted his teeth, but his mind flew to his mother sat at home changed from her illness and his own plans to visit her with Sansa. But another crash brought to mind Robb and his hatred towards the dark order, the dark mark. With a flash of lightening brightening the room he almost believes he sees Ned Stark, staring from the corner with warning in his eyes.

“No.” He’ll find some way to his mother, regardless of what his father threatens. “I won’t. I want my family, I want mother and Asha back in my life but I won’t sacrifice myself or the life I have now for it.”

Disappointment was the only look on Balon’s face that Theon saw, his head shaking at Theon in a familiar way. But Theon built himself up against it, shouldering himself against the thing he’d dreaded all his life and shields himself from the loathing that came.

“So you’ll sacrifice Sansa Stark for your life and independence then?” Balon’s voice is framed by another crash of thunder.

“What?” Theon feels his shield falter but he tries quickly to sturdy it. His father was bluffing, he had to be.

“Am I mistaken? I believed I’d heard news that you’d entangled yourself with the Stark girl.” His father’s eyes stared him down and Theon felt the weight of them push him further from his resolve against him. “A pretty girl, a surprise as well. A Slytherin Stark.” His eyes don’t wander from Theon, the threat behind them building with each word spoken. “Makes it easier for us. Having her in that house, surrounded by children of our cause.” 

~

Sansa woke to the sound of an owl at the end of her bed. Sitting up she reaches for the letter it dropped and sees the scrawling letters of Theon.

_Meet me in the Room of Requirement_.

It was the middle of the night, and around her the other seventh year girls all slept soundly. She snuck from her own bed as quiet as she could. She was head girl after all, she couldn’t exactly be caught sneaking from her room, it would set a bad precedent and make it that much harder for her.

She wrapped a sweater around her and made her way silently up from the dungeons to the floor that held the ever-changing room she’d grown so dependent upon. When she arrived she spotted Theon, silhouetted by moonlight and staring out the window to the yard.

Her heart felt incredibly light to see him, and she moved quickly to wrap her arms about him. “I missed you,” she whispers against his back, “why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Because I wasn’t planning to.” Theon’s voice is rough. Tight and sharp. He turns around and steps back from her arms. He doesn’t look at her for more than a second, and Sansa furrows her brow with concern.

“Are you okay?” She inquires, a hand reaching out for him that he steps away from again. “Theon?”

“I can’t keep doing this.” He says it plainly, but his eyes betray him and Sansa shakes her head. “This, and Winterfell, and all you Starks.”

“Theon… what are you talking about?” She steps forward again but he moves in sync with her. “Theon.” Her voice pleads now, confusion laced in it and his eyes flick up to meet her.

“I mean it,” he sharpens his voice. His eyes, dark and on her, lacked the carefree look that she was used to. They were a storm now, dark and wild and with no warmth. “It was all good and fun through the years. Made it all easier, pretending to be a Gryffindor and a Stark.” He laughs, sharp and harsh against Sansa’s ears. 

“You are a Gryffindor.” She says it firmly, “just like I’m a Slytherin, remember. The hat…”

“The hat made a mistake.” He scoffs, “I’ve never fit in with the rest of Gryffindor. The only reason I didn’t completely fall from it was because your brother is stubborn and kept me there.” Theon turns away, walking farther from her. “It made the years easier, pretending. Let me have some easy fun before now.”

“What are you… what do you mean until now? Theon…”

“I’m not cut out to be an auror,” he shrugs, his face turned from Sansa so she can’t see his expressions clearly. “I mean who are we fucking kidding? I’m a Greyjoy, Greyjoys are the ones aurors hunt down.” He laughs again, but its sadder.

Sansa moves again, firmly until she’s in front of him and she moves his face to look at her. “What is going on Theon? The truth, please.”

“The truth is…” he speaks slowly, breathing harsh and still not looking at her. “I’m a Greyjoy. I’m not meant to be good. This was fun, I enjoyed it. But I can’t keep pretending.” He starts to pull back but she keeps her grasp on him.

“So what? This was all nothing to you? Just fun.”

“Yes.” His voice is harsh, grating and forced. “Just fun.”

She releases him, stepping back and crossing her arms over herself as a shield. “I… don’t understand.”

“Come on Sansa, you’re smart, figure it out.” He says, “did you really think we could work?” He pauses, breathing hard before adding sharply. “I was just having fun.”

“I don’t believe you,” her hand moves, grabbing the locket. “I just don’t.”

“Believe what you want.” He mutters harshly, “but it won’t change anything I’m leaving. I’m done.” She reaches for him then, grabbing his arm and she freezes entirely when she sees the mark shifting upon it.

“Theon.” She gasps, but he pulls his arm from her harshly. Before he leaves the room his looks back to her one last time.

The two stare at each other. Dark eyes meeting light and she wants to call to him. She wants to make him stay, make him explain. But the mark on his arm lingers between them. Keeping him there in the doorway, and her stood in shock across from him. His eyes soften only slightly before he turns and leaves her to collapse with the release.


End file.
